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THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  A 
HUFFY  HUSBAND 


MARY  B.  LITTLE 


BOSTON 
RICHARD   G.    BADGER 


1908 


Copyright,  1908,  by  Mary  B.  Little 
All  Rights  Reserved 


The  Gorham  Press,  Boston,  U.  S.  A. 


THE  RUBAIYAT  OF  A  HUFFY  HUSBAND 


665892 


I 


I  wake,  the  Sun  does  scatter  into  Flight 
The  Dreams  of  Happiness  I  have  each  Night, 
O  blessed  Dreams  —  full  of  Domestic  Bliss, 
Too  soon  alas!  They're  banished  with  the  Light. 


II 


I'm  going  to  tell  in  just  the  Briefest  way 
The  cause  of  all  my  Anguish  —  if  I  may  - 

Then  one  and  all  will  know  the  Reason  why 
My  Mien  is  Solemn,  and  I  am  not  Gay. 


Ill 


On  Christmas  day  a  good  Friend  did  present 
My  Wife  a  Book;  no  doubt  with  best  intent. 
The  "  Rubaiyat  of  Omar  Khayyam  "  'twa 
Little  I  dreamed  the  Woe  of  its  Advent. 


IV 


After  the  rush  of  Holidays  was  o'er, 

And  things  had  settled  back  in  Place  once  more, 

Wife  found  the  Time  to  revel  in  that  Book, 
And  told  me  how  she  loved  its  Ancient  Lore. 


V 


She  soon  possessed  the  dreadful  Omar  Fad, 
Which  other  Husbands,  I  have  learned,  think  Bad. 

But  unlike  other  Fads  which  now  are  Past, 
This  has  the  power  to  make  me  very  Mad. 


VI 


The  others  which  she  tired  of  years  before, — 
Collecting  Vases,  Fans,  and  Spoons  galore, — 

Did  not  affect  the  Comfort  of  our  Home, 
Therefore  there  was  no  reason  to  be  Sore. 


VII 

But  now  each  time  I  come  back  to  the  House 
I  find  what  was  my  former  loving  Spouse 
So  deep  absorbed  in  Omar's  Rubaiyat, 
She  reads  right  on,  and  scarcely  does  Arouse. 


VIII 

Or  else  I  find  her  with  her  Pen  in  Hand, 
Grinding  out  Quatrains  which  mayhap  are  Grand, 

She  tries  to  make  me  Listen:  Rest  assured 
That  I  obey  Not  any  such  Command. 


IX 

Had  I  but  known  just  what  my  Fate  would  be, 
Inside  a  Drawer  to  which  I  hold  the  Key, 

That  Book  forever  would  have  Disappeared 
And  thereby  would  have  gained  some  Peace  for  Me. 


X 


But  ah,  the  Irony  of  Fate  —  that's  how 

"  A  Book  of  verses  underneath  the  Bough  " 

Is  what  I  hear  from  Morn  to  Dewy  Eve. 
A  Wilderness  were  Paradise  just  Now. 


XI 


Sometimes  when  I  am  very  tired,  and  Plead 
To  be  amused,  My  Wife  says,  "  I  will  read." 
And  this  is  what  she  tries  to  make  me  Hear, 
"  With  Earth's  first  Clay  they  did  the  Last  man 
knead." 


XII 

But  don't  imagine  while  Possessed  of  Wit, 
That  I  assent,  and  therefore  Calmly  sit. 

I  take  my  hat,  and  hasten  from  the  House, 
And  come  not  back  till  think  she's  through  with  It. 


XIII 

I  might  have  Prayed,  and  possibly  thereby 
Have  gained  relief  from  Somewhere  in  the  Sky. 

But  Wife  says,  Omar's  reckoning  proves  it 
"  As  Impotently  moves  as  You  or  I." 


XIV 


At  least  that  is  the  Doctrine  he  presents, 
Although  to  Me  it  is  Devoid  of  Sense. 

My  unbelief  in  what  he  says  does  Make 
My  Wife's  Love  for  him  only  more  Intense. 


XV 


And  thus  it  is  —  the  Rubaiyat's  her  Creed. 
It  is  her  Comfort  in  all  sorts  of  Need. 

I  tear  my  hair  —  I  storm  —  I  swear,  and  yet, 
'Tis  only  to  dear  Omar  she  pays  Heed. 


XVI 

"  Some  for  the  Glories  of  this  world;  and  some 
Sigh  for  the  Prophet's  Paradise  to  Come;" 

The  greatest  Boon  I  ask  for  is,  I  may 
Supplant  this  Interloper  as  a  Chum. 


XVII 

Now  all  the  Years  that  we  have  Wedded  been, 
Not  once  had  Demon  Jealousy  crept  in 

Until  this  Omar  —  dead  eight  Hundred  Years, 
Did  come  and  her  Affection  from  me  Win. 


XVIII 

I  feel  chagrined  to  Think,  at  this  late  Date, 
A  Man  so  long  since  Dead  can  alienate 

The  fond  Devotion  that's  been  mine  alone. 
No  Wonder  I  cry  out  'gainst  such  a  Fate. 


XIX 


'  The  Worldly  Hope  men  set  their  Hearts  upon 
Turns  Ashes  —  or  it  prospers;  and  anon," 

Just  so  those  happy  Days  of  long  ago 
Were  Mine,  for  one  sweet  space  of  Time  then  gone. 


XX 

The  last  few  Months  I  eagerly  frequent 
My  Clubs;  wherein  I  hear  great  Argument 

Regarding  Wives,  and  how  to  manage  them. 
But  come  no  Wiser  than  when  in  I  went. 


XXI 

Strange,  is  it  not  ?     Of  all  the  Husbands  who 
Before  me  passed  this  Door  of  Trouble  through 

Not  One  has  left  a  word  of  good  Advice, 
Nor  e'en  suggested  what  is  Best  to  do. 


XXII 

My  Friends  can't  help  me,  yet  they  laugh  to  Scorn 
My  downcast  looks,  and  at  the  way  I  Mourn. 
They  do  not  know  the  Anguish  of  my  Soul, 
Bereft  of  Wife  —  unhappy  —  and  forlorn. 


XXIII 

But  this  I  know,  whether  the  one  True  Light 
Kindle  to  Love,  or  wrath  consume  me  quite, 

I'd  rather  have  my  former  Happiness, 
Than  to  Possess  the  Whole  great  World  outright. 


XXIV 

I  oft'  attempt  to  show  Wife  where  'twill  Lead. 
She  gets  her  Book,  and  says  I  must  take  Heed 

That  -     '  The  first  Morning  of  Creation  wrote 
What  the  last  Dawn  of  reckoning  shall  Read." 


XXV 

One  day  I  queried  would  she  please  to  Say 
How  long,  how  long  this  Fad  was  apt  to  Stay  ? 

She  smiled  and  said,  "  My  dear,  don't  fret  about 
'  Unborn  To-Morrow  and  Dead  Yesterday.' ' 


"  'The  Moving  Finger  writes,  and  having  Writ 
Moves  on.' ':     "And  surely,  dear,  you  have  the  Grit 

To  be  submissive  to  the  Hand  of  Fate, 
When  you  can't  help  yourself  a  single  Bit." 


XXVII 

PREDESTINATION  —  full  of  Unbelief  — 
Must  I  accept  it,  is  there  no  Relief? 

The  very  thought  of  it  most  drives  me  Mad, 
And  bows  me  to  the  very  Earth  with  Grief. 


XXVIII 

Ah,  if  I  only  could  some  way  Conspire 
'  To  grasp  the  sorry  Scheme  of  Things  entire"; 

How  soon  I'd  shatter  it  to  bits  —  and  then 
Remould  it  nearer  to  my  Heart's  desire. 


XXIX 

Or,  would  some  Winged  Angel  ere  too  Late 
"  Arrest  the  yet  unfolded  Roll  of  Fate  " 

And  make  the  stern  Recorder  change  the  lines. 
And  thus  restore  at  ONCE  to  me^My  Mate. 


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